Welcome to the third installment of Food Questions, where I investigate food-related subjects to satisfy my curiosity. Check out my previous posts on Catherine de’Medici and the history of arroz con gandules and Jollof rice.

Biting into a mature cheddar that crumbles into jagged shards, giving way to the irresistable firm cheese. Tiny white pinpoints tucked between the large firm curds tightly crunch, releasing that characteristic sharp flavor.

The tastebuds deep on both sides of my tongue tingle and light up, making my mouth water. A throb of pleasure radiates from my gums to the base of my spine. The shudder of furry pleasure is nothing short of orgasmic.

Nestle a morsel of that cheese into the pillowy crumb of a fresh baguette, and that rich texture with the tight crispness of the brown crust…  This is one of my very favorite bites of food. The definition of deliciousness.

That sharp cheddar cheese is so damn good because it tastes salty and umami.

Umami is the mysterious fifth flavor, after salty, bitter, sweet, and sour. I remember hearing the news in 2001 that American researchers confirmed that we DO indeed have the ability to taste a fifth flavor–something the Japanese had first established nearly 100 years earlier. I was a teenage girl with food eternally on the mind, and was curious about this flavor. Through my clunky understanding of it, I got the impression that it was a just a “deeper” version of salty.

Today’s food question dives into the specifics of umami.

What exactly is umami?

Imagine:

Dipping crispy-fried potato wedges into tomato ketchup

Shaving a soft mound of Parmesan cheese over steaming, screamingly hot freshly drained pasta

Dabbing (or bathing, for some) your sushi in a dish of soy sauce

Adding salty anchovy fillets that dissolve into your rich puttanesca sauce

Using dashi stock (either bought powdered, or simmered from bonito flakes and kombu kelp) to give your miso soup the backbone of its heartiness and warmth

…If you’ve ever enjoyed any of these taste sensations, you have tasted umami. It is the umami flavor that gives these dishes their depth and richness of flavor, and what makes them so luscious and satisfying.

A dish without umami is one that makes you tilt your head and think “There’s something missing.”

Umami is a flavor that is not recognizable enough to know which ingredients contain it, but one that is sorely missed when absent.

The discovery of this flavor is credited to Japanese chemist Kikunae Ikeda after realizing the seaweed in his miso soup was the key ingredient to its tastiness.

Ikeda called this flavor “umami;””umai” is yummy/tasty; adding the noun ending “-mi” makes “umami” loosely translate to yumminess/tastiness.

This flavor is a bit slippery to describe, but it’s often called meaty, brothy, savory, and rich.  Ingredients with umami are special add-ins that create an explosion of flavor.

It’s found in aged foods, like cured meats, fermented products, and ripe (often stinky) cheese. It’s also present in fresh foods like ripe tomatoes, milk, mushrooms, and even breast milk!

It’s the amino acid glutamate that’s responsible for this yumminess.

Umami can be created through using umami-rich ingredients, or by using heat to brown your food. This is called the Maillard reaction: when an ingredient is heated under the right conditions, carbohydrate molecules react with amino acids, which break down and produce a browning effect, giving birth to complex, meaty aromas. Imagine the difference in flavor between a sad, floppy boiled chicken breast and a juicy piece of meat carved from a crisp, roasted whole chicken.

Here are some more umami-rich ingredients, grouped into various cuisines sorted by country:

Japan
(The mischievous folkloric creature, the tanuki, is smiling in the background)
Kombu kelp, shiitake mushrooms, soy sauce, tuna

Korea
A multitude of fermented sauces/condiments/pastes (traditionally done in earthenware crocks called onggi, pictured on the left), dashima seaweed, kimchi (spicy fermented Napa cabbage), and saeujeot (mini-shrimps preserved in a heavily salted brine)

Italy
Cured cheeses like parmesan, ripe tomato, balsamic vinegar, cured ham, anchovies

France
Cured cheeses like Roquefort, oysters, roast chicken (a double-whammy of umami, between the meat itself and the browning process), mushrooms, potatoes

Glutamate came to be isolated from proteins in wheat gluten, distilling it into its purest form, called “aji no moto”–the stuff of flavor. It quickly came into commercial production in Japan and was sold as a flavor enhancer, much like salt and sugar.

Nowadays it’s mass-produced by growing bacteria that excrete the substance into liquid, from which MSG powder is produced.

Some of you may be skeptical about using MSG powder in your food.  But as for the purported negative side effects of “Chinese Restaurant Syndrome” (sweats, headaches, upset tummy, increased heart rate), research doesn’t seem to back it up.

Studies have shown that MSG in normal dietary quantities is innocuous (though it may be related to weight gain). Perhaps it’s safest to say, as with all things in life: Moderation is key.

That said, I never use it. While cooking, I have a distaste for relying too much on salt, sugar, or MSG–it feels like I’m cheating, grabbing an easy fix to make up for flavor I failed to cultivate during the cooking process.

I’m more in favor of coaxing in umami flavor on my own terms: browning meat bones, using mushrooms, roasting tomatoes, grating Parmesan into my risotto, using fish sauce in my seaweed soup…

So, the next time you’re scratching your head in the kitchen, thinking your dish isn’t quite right, resist the urge to grab for salt. If you think it needs a li’l extra somethin’, pump up the umami.